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About Me

is an unapologetic, bleeding-heart liberal who writes about everything from politics to private parts. A TV-writer in a former life, her credits include "Big Spender" for Animal Planet,and "A Child Too Many," "Cradle of Conspiracy" & "Deceived By Trust," for Lifetime

Wednesday, June 30, 2010

Even President George H.W. Bush (the smart one) called it "voodoo economics." If he meant that Reagan was sticking pins into this nation's future, he couldn't have been more accurate. The financial crap hole in which we now find ourselves has its roots in the economic policies of the Reagan administration.

The Reagan legacy is the reason why today only 1% of the people control 90% of the wealth and now that the conservative Supreme Court has deemed that corporations are essentially people and have the same rights, things are going to get worse -- much worse -- before they get better.

Sunday, June 27, 2010

Friday marked the one year anniversary of the death of Michael Jackson. If you haven’t seen his final work in “This Is It,” you’re missing a rare insight into this musical genius. The link will take you to the review I wrote on the film.

Michael’s life was mired in controversy, much of it of his own making, but nothing can take away from the musical legacy he left us and the millions of lives touched by his humanity.

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Nude Rugby…

What will those crazy Kiwis think of next? An annual event to coincide with National Nude Day, this year’s contest attracted over 2,500 fans willing to spend the first day of New Zealand winter watching a bunch of naked guys bashing around a ball in the buff. Fun for the whole family.

Of course, every year the event is plagued by some spectator who insists on streaking while fully clothed and this year was no different. Spoil sport.

The prize? A toilet seat trophy. I would have thought a ball warmer.

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Republicans kiss corporate ass while giving the American people the big FU…

No surprise there.

Last week oil industry tool, Joe Barton (R) Texas, made news by apologizing to BP for being made to put a $20 billion dollar down payment on the costs of their catastrophic oil spill in the Gulf which has devastated the lives and livelihoods of many of the people there.

This week Joe and his GOP pals pulled the plug on unemployment benefits for millions of our jobless neighbors, family and friends, while fighting tooth and nail to defeat any meaningful financial reform that might hamper corporate America’s ability to continue the very same policies that caused the economic meltdown to begin with.

There should be no doubt in anyone’s mind: If you’re Wall Street you’ve got friends in the GOP.

If you’re Main Street, you’re on your own.

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No more ugly kids…

Not if BeautifulPeople.com has its way. With 600,000 members worldwide, the dating site bills itself as the world’s largest network of good-looking people, though it recently cut 5,000 members who gained weight.

The website is creating a fertility “shopping mall” where its members can discuss reproductive issues and move forward if they find a match that suits them.

Plans are to eventually allow unattractive people access, as well. “Initially, we hesitated to widen the offering to non-beautiful people,” Robert Hintz, a founder of the site said. “But everyone – including ugly people – would like to bring good-looking children into the world, and we can’t be selfish with our attractive gene pool.”

What a humanitarian.

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A word about General McCrystal-meth…

Because a dip into the drug scene is the only reason I can come up with for someone who’s supposed to be a pretty bright guy running off his mouth to a magazine that features Lady Gaga in a machine-gun bra on its cover.

Wednesday, June 23, 2010

We’ve all done it. Said “Yes” to something we did not want. Women probably more so than men. From childhood, we are programmed to please, whereas little boys are programmed to stand up for themselves. This was certainly true for my generation and, while I know that the womens movement of the 70’s produced stronger women who produced stronger daughters, what is also true is that nasty little “pleasing gene” continues to raise its ugly head, even today.

The ability to say “No” is intrinsically linked to our level of self-worth. Historically, a woman’s worth was tied to that of her husband; i.e., had she made a good marriage and, if so, she had better keep her husband happy lest she be cast out into a society that offered little opportunity for women in general and even less for single women. While today new opportunities have opened up for us in every realm, with those have come the heavier responsibility of being true to ourselves while still trying to meet the needs of everyone else.

The inability to say “No” pervades not just our relationships with our significant others, but with friends, family, employers and even complete strangers. How many of us when dining out have been shown to a table we didn’t like, yet obediently took our seat there anyway? Such a small thing, but so telling. If we don’t feel we can say “No” to a hostess at IHOP, what chance do we have to make our desires known in other more important areas of our lives?

What exactly are we afraid of when we choose to submit to the will of another rather than claim our own good? I’m not talking about the norm of a give-and-take relationship or being civil or cooperative when circumstances call for such, but rather that tightening grip we feel in our chest when we know we’ve sold ourselves out – again. Do we fear that person will leave us? I recall as a child once giving my brand new box of Crayolas to another child who asked for them in the hope that she would be my friend. It lasted a day. Then she wanted more.

We are all taught to consider other people’s feelings, but few of us are taught to consider our own lest we be regarded as “selfish” or, in our adults years, a “bitch.” Our need to be liked by others all too often overrides our need to like ourselves, and the times when we do speak up for ourselves frequently leave us riddled with guilt, which then makes it even harder to say “No” the next time. Are these really our only choices? Saying “Yes” and living with regret or saying “No” and living with guilt?

The answer is a resounding, earth-shattering, trumpet-blaring NO! No one has the power to make us feel either one. Regret and guilt are devils of our own making and, as such, we hold the power to banish them.

“Regret,” in my view, is the worst. It just makes you a victim. You won’t garner any points because you made a choice to stay late at work again to pick up a friend’s slack so they could to go home to dinner with their family because, after all, you’re single so how could you possibly have a life. Or agreeing to drive all the kids to soccer practice for the third week in a row when you were looking forward to getting your nails done because hubby had a golf date. And we all know how hard he works. Scenarios like these inevitably lead to one of two things. Your resentment builds such that the next time you’re asked to pass the salt by some poor unsuspecting soul you go off on him/her like The Incredible Hulk, or you wrap yourself in such a banner of self-pity that you end up creating resentment toward you by the very people you were so afraid of offending in the first place.

Instead, how about not saying “Yes” unless you truly mean it, and if you do choose to do something for another that perhaps you’d rather not, then see it as a gift to that person and do it with love or don’t do it at all. My mother had a great saying about people who do something for someone else and then complain about it: “It’s like the cow who gave a good bucket of milk then kicked it over.” That cow is now sitting atop a sesame seed bun.

As for “guilt,” we need to let go of our attachment to the outcome of saying “No.” We can’t control it anyway. If someone is going to be angry, sad, disappointed, whatever the response, that is their choice that they, and they alone, are making most often to manipulate us into changing our mind or punish us by trying to make us feel, yes, guilty. But since, again, no one can make us feel that way except ourselves, why not instead see their actions for what they are and just refuse to take the bait. Do this often enough and others will see that they can no longer control us with their emotions and may even come to grudgingly respect us for finally starting to respect ourselves.

Self-respect is an interesting thing. Like a muscle, the more you exercise it, the stronger it becomes. And that is the power of “No.”

Sunday, June 20, 2010

What a week. I could write a whole post just on Texas Republican Joe Barton's apology to BP for what he insanely referred to as the president's "shakedown" of the company for getting a $20 billion dollar down payment on the damages it has caused to citizens of the Gulf. Barton has received over $3 million from the oil industry and is a ranking member on the Committee on Energy and Commerce. Yet another case of the fox guarding the hen house.

Perhaps the biggest story of the week is how the "news" pundits have been reporting the Gulf story. Let's just have some laughs.

Friday, June 18, 2010

Here’s the view out my office window. Right now they’re growing lettuce, beets, squash and onions. Last year at this time it was a strawberry field. In winter, there’s broccoli as far as the eye can see.

Here’s what I woke up to this morning as I often do.

I don’t know what time they arrived, but I’m an early riser and from the look of what they’ve picked so far, they were out there long before I first opened my eyes with my usual bewildered “Who am I? Where am I? And what’s this Chihuahua doing on my face?”

I don’t know if these workers are here legally or not. I don’t care. These men and women are out there every day in every kind of weather, bent over in that field planting, nurturing and picking food so that I can eat. They have more honor and integrity in their calloused brown pinkies than many white-collar workers I’ve come across and certainly more than any of the Arizona politicians who are trying to run them out of the country.

Farming operations like this one exist all over this nation. Thousands upon thousands of them. You would think with the current unemployment rate you’d see some white faces out there grateful for the job. Maybe you have. I haven’t.

Before I lived in a rural area, I’d go to the store and roam the produce aisle, filling my basket without much thought as to where this bounty I was about to enjoy came from.

Wednesday, June 16, 2010

.My friends travel, while I… don’t. I don’t even have a passport. I did go on a three-day cruise to Mexico in 2006. The best part was buying drugs that are illegal in the U.S. without a prescription, and cheaply at that.

It’s not that I don’t like seeing other places. It’s the getting-to-them that presents the obstacle. The crowds, the packing, the delays, the flying. Not the flying so much as the potential for crashing. And don’t give me that crap about it being safer to fly than to drive on the freeway. I drive a Volvo.

Besides, I mean really, isn’t it all on DVD now anyway? If I want to see Italy can’t I just pop it into the player and relax in the comfort of my own home with a plate of lasagna? China? Hey, pass me the egg rolls. And who wouldn’t rather see Paris all cozy on the sofa with a savory Coq au Vin while avoiding all those annoying French people.

The last time I flew anywhere was in ’93, from L.A. to Pennsylvania. To save myself the trouble of having to check a bag I decided that I would simply wear everything I would need over those next three days. It worked for “Heidi.” Stoked by my own brilliance, I planned my wardrobe carefully and began to layer, starting with several pair of undies: a thong, a bikini and a brief, in that order. Next some leggings, a pair of knee high socks, low-rise jeans and finally a long, black skirt. On top I donned a tank, a tee-shirt, then a black turtleneck and finally a large wool, cable-knit sweater. For shoes, black cowboy boots which went nicely with all my planned ensembles. Clearly, these were the days when you could still fly without enduring a cavity search.

Although it should be obvious, I will mention it anyway. The ingestion of any liquids that day was strictly verboten as peeing would be out of the question. This presented a slight problem, as I prefer to be dead-ass drunk when I fly, but the downing of a single 10-mg tablet of Xanax proved surprisingly effective. Were it not for the fact that even if you drink nothing for hours on end, the body will continue to produce waste fluids and deliver them oh-so-efficiently to the bladder, my plan would have been flawless. This I discovered about one hour from landing and by the time we taxied to the gate, the whole “Heidi” thing no longer seemed like such a stroke of genius.

Trains and buses aren’t much better. You’re still jammed together with a lot of strangers carrying God only knows what germs. You’ve got some Einstein train engineer texting his girlfriend just when he’s supposed to be switching tracks, and buses without seatbelts going off the sides of overpasses. Yes, I know. When my time is up it’s up and God will initiate his own personal search-and-destroy mission. I could be securely ensconced in my own bedroom having safe sex with myself (all the safer) only to have a plane land on me. It happens.

I’m sure that I would enjoy lying on a white, sandy Caribbean beach, my toes dipping into the clear, blue waters of the Atlantic, while a large alcoholic concoction of some kind is served to me by a half-naked native Adonis. There are many places that I am sure I would enjoy, and it is my fervent hope to live long enough for the words “Beam me up, Scotty” to become a reality.

But until then I’m afraid I will just have to remain the reluctant traveler.

Sunday, June 13, 2010

.
With the Ohio tornadoes, the Arkansas floods, more NATO troops killed in Afghanistan and, of course, the continued devastation from the BP oil spill, it was a struggle to find something to smile about this week. It's times like this when I'm grateful for Sarah Palin...

In an attempt to put to rest rumors that she’s had a boob job Sarah, pictured here at the Belmont Stakes to cheer on her horse "First Dude," recently told Faux News bff Greta Van Susteren that the sad thing about all this is people are now staring at her chest when “I really want them to be listening to what I’m saying.” Uh, I’d go with your strengths, Sarah.

Personally, I could care less if Palin is no longer biodegradable. I just want to know if anyone else finds the words “Sarah Palin” and “boob job” in the same sentence as redundant as I do.

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Your taxpayer dollars at work – if you’re British, that is.

Britain teenage girls are being taught how to walk in high heels in a government-funded college course. The six-week “Sexy Heels In The City” course at London's SouthThamesCollege also gives lessons on how to carry designer handbags. The course claims to prepare young women "for the business world and their social lives."

"The earlier younger ladies learn how to walk in heels, the better it's going to be in the long run - with business and social lives," said the woman who runs the course.

Taxpayers' groups have slammed it as pointless and a waste of time, but I don’t know.

With job opportunities for college grads scarce everywhere these days everyone needs a backup plan, and what better way to prepare your daughter for a career as a street walker should the need arise?

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Where’s Dick?

Dick Cheney has been appearing on any show that would have him to mouth off on the President’s every move since Obama took office, but since the BP Oil spill – not a word. Isn’t that interesting?

Cheney was chairman and CEO of oil-services company Halliburton between 1995 and 2000 and continued to receive stock options and deferred income from the company until 2003. As vice-president, he was also the architect of our energy policy from 2000 to 2008.

In 2005 President Bush signed the “Energy Policy Act" that included what has become known as "the Halliburton Loophole" which removed authority from the Environmental Protection Agency to regulate a potentially dangerous gas-drilling process known as “cementing,” a process invented by Halliburton and one they just happened to be working on right before the Deepwater Horizon rig blew all to hell.

Bush/Cheney – The herpes of American history.

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California politics

What kind of a power hungry ego maniac spends $90 million dollars to get a job that pays only $212,179? If you guessed former Ebay CEO Meg Whitman you’d be right, but that’s just chump change for this multi-billionaire who seeks to be California’s next governor and plans to spend an additional $60 million in the general election.

Lest you think that her privileged position puts her out of touch with the concerns of us mere mortals, in a soon-to-be-seen TV ad, Meg says: If we could only do one thing, putting people back to work would be the most important thing.The human cost of two million Californians out of work is devastating.

Those Ebay workers included in the massive layoffs at the company while Meg was in charge and paying herself a whopping $120 million would probably agree.

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And finally, talk about the pot calling the kettle black…

Carly Fiorina, another Republican multi-millionaire who bought herself the nomination and hopes to unseat California Senator Barbara Boxer, got her campaign off to an auspicious start with what I can only assume is her audition tape for the sequel to “Mean Girls.” Caught on an open mike, Ms. Fiorina shared this insight…

Thank you Carly for showing us that when it comes to politicians making complete asses of themselves, there is no gender gap.

Wednesday, June 9, 2010

. While an influx of work is at least temporarily helping my personal economy, it is encroaching on my writing time. This piece is from August of last year...

The “Time For Service” light has been on in my car now for three months. Any time, I expect to see the “Hey – I Need A Little Attention Here,” light, followed closely by an angry, flashing “I Told You So.”

My car is not the only area of my life suffering from neglect. I’ve taken to wearing hats whenever I leave the house so as not to expose the two inches of gray roots seeping from my scalp. As luck would have it, I live in a rural area where cowboy hats are considered acceptable attire everywhere. Sometimes I throw on a baseball cap just to change things up a bit. I do have to say I’m happy to see that torn jeans are considered high fashion at the moment because that’s pretty much the condition of all of mine and I fully expect to be mistaken for Cameron Diaz any day now.

Fortunately, I’ve never required an abundance of food. We have chickens on the farm where I live and they provide a steady supply of eggs. There’s a veggie garden, too, and several fruit trees. What we don’t grow here is easily pilfered from the lands of surrounding farmers, but except for the occasional splurge on a jar of Bacon Bits, meat is a thing of the past.

Being single has some financial advantages in these lean times. Nobody on Facebook cares if I shave my legs, so I save on razors. Also, the bushes growing on my limbs keep me warm in the winter when I can’t afford heat, and I’ve discovered that underarm hairs can be plucked.

Like most animal lovers, my dog’s needs come before mine. If Dixie has a hang nail I rush her to the vet. I, on the other hand, have to be scraped off the front of a truck before I’ll see a doctor. Not that I don’t have insurance. I do. But if I use it, they’ll raise my rates. Which seems reasonable. Those executive-owned mansions don’t come cheap.

I will never be able to retire. I feel sorry for all those who worked hard their whole lives and scrimped to save for their golden years only to have lost those savings in the market downturn. Now they’re just like me, only I never saved a dime. Life as a freelance writer rarely offered such an opportunity, plus I squandered a lot of it, too. I do have a job, so I’m ahead of many in that respect, but work has slowed recently while, conversely, the monthly bills only seem to know one direction -- up. Funny how that works. To those who say “money can’t buy happiness,” I say if you have money and you’re not happy, you’re just not trying.

Sunday, June 6, 2010

Apparently 20,000 sex workers in Australia who scheduled a series of marches to draw attention to what they call “whore-phobic attitudes.” Chanting “No bad whores, just bad laws,” many wore T-shirts reading "whore power" and "sluts unite" and carried red umbrellas, a symbol of the movement.

A representative of the group said. "Sex work is legal in Australia. Brothels are run in a professional and transparent manner, and sex workers are huge contributors to society, yet we face discrimination every single day,” citing applications for rental housing and credit cards, as well as being forced to pay up to five times more than other advertisers in newspapers.

So next time you see a sex worker by the side of the road carrying a sign that says, “I give blow-jobs so you don’t have to,” show a little respect.

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Moving on to politics…

House Minority Leader John Boehner (R-Ohio) has nothing better to be outraged over…

This week the George Hamilton wanna-be turned an even deeper shade of whatever the hell color he is when he expressed his anger over Beatle Paul McCartney’s statement that he was grateful America again has a president “who knows what a library is.”

Seriously, John? Take a real close look at this photo.

This is really the fight you want to pick?

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Cheney – the gift that keeps on giving…

BP Oil has hired a former spokeswoman for Dick Cheney to lead its PR effort. While working for Cheney, Anne Kolton defended the Vice-President’s right to hold secretive meetings with oil company executives. BP was reportedly among those companies Cheney met with.

Another stellar decision by BP.

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And speaking of dicks…

Viagra may get you up, but apparently it doesn’t keep you there. Worry not. A swift spray of a new yet-unnamed drug may help your erection last nearly six times longer. Men who sprayed the head of "Mr. Weenie" five minutes prior to sex lasted an average of three minutes compared with just over 30 seconds before treatment.

Among the reported side effects, however, were complaints of vaginal burning by some of their partners.

Oh, yeah. That’ll get you invited back.

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Behold the Gringo Mask – coming to a border state near you…

Planning a jaunt through Arizona this year? Put your best white face forward. Simply choose from a cut-out of a blue-eyed, sandy haired white guy or a green-eyed, blond white woman and quicker than you can say “Give us your huddled masses yearning to breathe free” you no longer look like a "suspicious, potentially illegal" alien.

The Gringo Mask was created as a way to show disapproval of Arizona’s new immigration law targeting Hispanics. The creators have said that the purpose of the mask is not to profit or offend, but rather they hope it to be a creative way to start a dialogue about the negative effects of racial profiling on all communities, not just the Hispanic.

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Human/Animal Hybrids Banned In Ohio…

Anxious to prove that the great political minds of Arizona have nothing on them, the Ohio legislature succumbed to pressure from a group calling itself the Ohio Christian Alliance and passed a law that would make it illegal to create a human/animal hybrid.

I know I’m relieved.

Apparently, frightened by the unexplainable origins of Glenn Beck and fearing the production of more such sub-species, the Ohio Christian Alliance has been working to ban all embryonic stem cell research. As they see it, it’s just a slippery slope from discovering a cure for Alzheimer’s, Parkinson’s Disease and spinal cord injuries to the creation of this fellow.

Lunatic fringe – 1. Medical Science – 0.

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And finally, some sad news…

This week we lost another “Golden Girl” with the passing of the very classy Rue McClanahan who played the bawdy, lovable Blanche Devereaux

Thursday, June 3, 2010

Who would have ever bet they’d see the day when the Clintons’ marriage survives longer than that of the Gores? You just know Bill and Hillary are doing some serious high-fivin’ this week.

Why divorce after 40 years? What on earth is the point? Seems like if you’ve stuck it out this long you can hang in there a bit longer. I mean, once you’re in your sixties that “Till death do us part” stuff is right around the corner. You really want to spend your golden years training someone new?

Come on, Tipper. I know you’re probably still smarting from that convention kiss in 2000 where Al tongued you to your toes and the world let out a collective “Ewwww…” but seriously, the guy has a Nobel Prize and an Oscar. You really think you’re going to do better? You two were high school sweethearts. You’ve never even been out in the dating world as an adult. It’s brutal, Tipper. When was the last time you had to worry about a condom? Yeah, girlfriend, you’ve gotta bag it these days. You don’t know where that thing's been.

And Al… dear goofy Al. I know you’re hanging with the Hollywood crowd now and those young boobs babes look mighty attractive, but seriously, the inconvenient truth is you’re really a bore, man. Oh, sure, Megan Fox may want her picture taken with you to give to her parents, but she ain’t gonna be warmin’ your globes any time soon, believe me.

The spin is you two have simply grown apart – like that’s a bad thing. I say you’ve got the best of both worlds.

Seriously, kids, you're breakin' my heart here. Rethink this divorce business. Just go out and have an affair like everyone else.

Wednesday, June 2, 2010

In issuing an “apology” for the spill in the Gulf this week, BP CEO Tony Hayward lamented the loss of… HIS OWN FUCKING LIFE!

Geez, Tony. We’re all so sorry you’ve been inconvenienced.

I’m sure any day now you’ll be receiving a letter of apology from the loved ones of those 11 people killed on your Deep Horizon deathtrap. I’d wager all to hell that they’d like to have their lives back, too, but hey – that anguish can’t possibly compare to the pain of your tanking stock options.

Also remorseful for any furrows they may have caused on your brow are all those fisherman whose livelihoods have been destroyed by BP’s greed, arrogance, and just possibly criminal negligence. You know, the same ones you tried to buy off for a lousy $5,000 to drop any claims against the company. Ungrateful bastards. Can’t they see what this is doing to you?

And I think I speak for the thousands of fish, birds and mammals that have washed up dead on the Gulf shores smothered in what you apparently can only see at BP’s lost profits when I say how sorry I am if the photos of their lifeless bodies have caused you to lose any sleep.

You earned over $4,000,000 last year. Yes, I know – paltry by Wall Street standards – but still more than enough to buy yourself some brandy and good masseuse to relieve the tremendous stress we know you must be suffering.

The magnitude of what has been destroyed forever will not be realized for decades, but be not concerned. Your life will go on just fine, Tony.